Remembering Gwen Stacy
by ThreeInOne
Summary: It had been 9 years. 9 years since she'd died, Peter unable to save her. On a sleepless night, Peter remembered the death of his first love, and the horror of that night.


**((This is just a one-shot I wrote based on the Death of Gwen Stacy in the comic books. I felt the need to have Peter remembering what happened, and to have a bit of a touching emotional scene. Please review.))**

"_No! Gwen!"_

Peter woke up screaming. He held the blanket before him with a grip so tight it stuck, and threatened not to come off. Tears were streaming down his face. The red LED lights of his alarm clock read 3:45 A.M.

Peter laid his head back down, pulling the blanket off his hands, and curling back up, in a feeble attempt to go back to sleep.

It had been 9 years. 9 years since Gwen had died, and he'd been unable to save her. 9 years.

Thank goodness MJ wasn't home, he reflected. She'd always suspected he still dreamed of Gwen, thought about her. Not that MJ could blame him. She'd been Gwen's best friend, and had been just as upset as Peter when she'd learned of her death.

But not really as much.

Peter thought back on it, on that day.

_It was a blistery fall evening. Peter and Gwen were walking through Central Park, holding hands and laughing._

"_I'm glad we did this," Gwen said. _

"_I'm glad we did too," he agreed. Suddenly his phone rang. "Must be Jolly Jameson himself." He answered it, and listened, becoming more worried by the second. He hung up, and turned to Gwen._

"_Sorry, Gwen, but I've got to go. JJ wants me to get pictures of Doc Ock. Apparentally he's on some kind of rampage, and…I'm sorry."_

"_No, it's alright, Peter," her tone turned frosty. "Go on, do what you have to do. When you get done, I'll be home." She marched off briskly._

_Peter could only stare. Why had she gone off like that? He knew Gwen got upset whenever he had to leave, but never that upset._

_I'd better stop Doc Ock, he thought. I'll talk to Gwen later._

_Gwen was infuriated. Why did Peter have to run off all the time? Would it kill him to stay around? To stay with her? But nooo, he had to rush off. He kept apologizing, but she could tell he never really meant it. What was so important he had to leave her?_

"_Hi Gwen," her father, Captain George Stacy, greeted her as she came in the door. "How was your date with Peter?"_

"_I don't wanna talk about it!" she snapped, starting up the stairs. George could only stare after her, wondering what had went wrong._

"_He's insufferable!" Gwen ranted as she went into her room and slammed the door. "I should've stayed with Harry. At least he didn't go gallivanting off who-knows-where to do who-knows-what," she gasped, a thought coming to mind. "Is he cheating on me? That would explain it. I bet it's Liz or one of those other cheerleaders. Ooh, when I get my hands on you, Peter Parker, you are gonna get an earful!"_

"_Aw, is something the matter?" a mocking voice echoed around her room. Gwen froze. _

"_Who's there?" she demanded. _

"_Can't an old friend come to visit?" Gas flooded the room, and Gwen was knocked out. A whirring of engines was heard, accompanied by a cackling laugh, as Gwen was whisked into the night._

Peter hated remembering what had happened. He laid flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, trying to clear his mind. But the memories always came drifting back.

_Peter got home right after dark. His Aunt May had fallen asleep already, so he slipped in his window, and undressed. A note lay on his bed, probably from Aunt May, telling him if he was hungry, dinner was in the oven, or something like that._

_Dear Peter, the note read. How was your little date? Not that I really care. Poor little Gwennie, right about to fall. Think you can save her? Big bad Spider-Man?_

_Peter felt a chill go down his spine. This note was definitely not Aunt May's. Then who?_

"_Gwen!" he exclaimed, throwing his mask back on, and jumping out the window._

_About to fall…it meant she was somewhere high. Like a skyscraper, or a…bridge. The closest bridge to Peter's location._

_The George Washington Bridge._

Peter contemplated going on patrol again. He'd already slipped on his costume, and the mask. It fit perfectly, but it felt…dirty. Like he was dishonoring Gwen's memory.

"I have to do something," he told himself. "All this laying around remembering won't help. I have to clear my head."

He climbed out his apartment window, and swung away.

_Peter arrived at the George Washington Bridge, to feel his blood turn to ice._

_No._

_Not him._

"_There you are, Spider!" the Green Goblin cackled, hovering atop his glider, Gwen in his arms. "You almost missed the party. And I'd already handed out the souvenirs."_

"_Goblin," Peter's voice quavered. "You're dead. I saw you die."_

"_Correction, was dead, Spider-Man," he started. "Or can I call you Pete? I lived through what happened. And I swore vengeance. What better way to hurt a man through the ones he loves?" He held Gwen carefully, before throwing her off the bridge._

"_NOOOO!" Peter screamed, firing a split-second web, which latched onto Gwen's shoulder. Her fall was stopped instantly, and Peter pulled her up._

"_Gwen?" he held her. "Gwen?"_

_There was no pulse. Peter felt his heart break._

"_GWEN!" He shrieked._

The routine had become familiar. The pattern of his web-swinging had not changed in 9 years. Fire a web, swing up and over in a curve, let go, curl up, and fire another web. The lights of the city blurred around him. He expected no supervillians to attack. None had, in quite a while. There were a few regular crimes, trivial really, nothing he couldn't handle.

It felt meaningless.

_He charged Goblin, not bothering to screw around with his normal jokes and quips. He was going all out._

_He dodged bat blades and pumpkin bombs, and hit Goblin with his full strength, rage over flowing._

_A quick burst of webbing gummed up the glider's works, and Goblin was forced to come down to the ground._

_Peter beat him senseless. He pinned Goblin to the ground, and repeatedly punched him, kicked him, blinded by anger. When he was done, the Green Goblin lay on the bridge, nearly dead, almost unconscious. And what Peter had done hit him._

"_Oh God," he whispered. "What have I done?"_

"_Peter," the broken man known as Norman Osborn gasped. "It wasn't me. It was the Goblin. You know I love you like a son. I would never…hurt you."_

_Peter was unaware, for the meantime, of the glider rising up, blades extending._

"_Why?" Peter clenched and unclenched his fists. "Why? She didn't do anything to you! Why?"_

"_Peter," Norman held out a hand. "Help me. I-I'll fix this. I'll get rid of the Goblin. Help me, son," he added meaningfully._

_Peter was torn a moment, until his spider-sense blared full force._

_It was instinct that saved his life. He jumped up out the way as the glider came barreling forward…_

_And pinned Norman Osborn to the bridge, jammed through his stomach. _

_Norman looked down at it, and at Peter._

_Norman Osborn died only a few short minutes later. Peter felt the tears flow, as he picked up Gwen, cast one last look at the Goblin, no longer a villian, but a dead friend._

_And he swung away._

_Little did he know, another figure had been watching._

"_Dad!" Harry Osborn ran out to his dead father, leaning by his side. "Dad!"_

_He bent his head low. "He'll pay, Dad," he spoke softly. "Spider-Man will pay."_

_He took the ghoulish smiling mask off his father's head, and left._

The clock read 4:20 when Peter returned. He curled back up in bed, as the radio began to play.

"_I wake up and teardrops, they fall down like rain_

_I put on that old song that we danced to and then_

_I head off to my job guess not much has changed_

_Punch the clock, head for home, check the phone, just in case._

_Go to bed, dream of you, that's what I'm doing these days."_

**((The song at the end is Rascal Flatts "These Days." I felt like it fit.))**


End file.
